Symphony in C, movement I: Allegro con brio
by island.dreamer17
Summary: *NEW AND IMPROVED* Movement 1 of 4. Their lives moved together like a piece of music: speeding up, slowing down, always changing... and yet somehow still familiar. She analyzed music; he analyzed criminals. He knew nothing about music, yet he was intrigued by her. Colby/OC.
1. prelude

**This is the new and improved Symphony in C, movement 1: Allegro :)**

 **I know I talked about posting oneshots that were sort of in order, sort of not...turns out I can't let go of the idea of making these oneshots into movements that create an entire "symphony," so here we are, attempt number 2.**

 **If you read the old Symphony in C, the majority of the material in the first three chapters of this movement are virtually untouched. I've done a little editing, but very little has changed content-wise.**

 **I have all four movements planned out, so here's an overview for those of you who are interested (plus I may publish the movements out of order, so that I can finish the bits I have started):**

 **I. Allegro con brio (Colby and Caitlin's first meeting up through Janus List)**

 **II. Adagio, misterioso (most of season 4, will cover Colby's relationship with Caitlin + team post-Janus List)**

 **III. Theme & Variations, scherzo (seasons 5-6)**

 **IV. Rondo (engagement & marriage)**

 **For movement 3, I'm definitely taking requests for variations! Anything with lots of fluff and possibly some angst, not looking for too much plot here :) so if you've got anything, I'd love to hear it! :)**

* * *

Symphony in C, movement I: Allegro con brio (fast, with spirit)

 _prelude_  
"Do you know where I can find Professor Eppes's office?" the young woman asked a passing student.

He pointed. "It's like the second or third door on the right, around the corner there—his door's usually open."

"Thanks." She headed down the hall, glancing at each nameplate to know when she reached the right room. Just as the student said, the second door on the right was swung open about halfway, and she stuck her head inside to see the unmistakable figure of Prof. Charles Edward Eppes inside.

Stepping into the doorway, she knocked twice firmly on the open door.

"I'll be with you in just a minute." He was seated, head bent over the desk, curls bouncing as he quickly made calculations in his notebook. Soon the scribbling slowed, then stopped, and he looked up. "Caity!" he exclaimed.

Caitlin smiled. "Surprise," she said.

"What are you doing here?" Charlie asked his little sister. "I thought you were looking for a job."

Caitlin spread her arms, and replied, "You're looking at it."

"I didn't think CalSci had a musicology department," Charlie told her, puzzled. Caitlin had been the only Eppes child to inherit their mother's musical talents, and had gotten her degrees in musicology and math, among other things.

"They didn't," Caitlin said. "But they were impressed with my Gallatin degree, and said they were looking for a little diversity in their curriculum. They've asked me to head up a brand-new musicology department, developing curriculum for a music theory undergrad major and a math musicology grad program, as well as adding some elective music classes for undergraduates. The department won't officially get off the ground for a couple more years—we have to set curriculum and requirements, and they may have to hire a couple of new professors. But they think math musicology is an interesting field, and they want to be on the forefront of it."

"That's so exciting!" Charlie congratulated her. "And you get to join the rest of the family here in LA," he added with a smile.

Caitlin nodded. "Yeah, that was a bonus."

"Did you get an apartment already?" Charlie asked.

Caitlin shook her head. "No. I found out I got the job about a month ago, and I was supposed to come out in the fall to start preparations for next schoolyear. I wanted to surprise you guys. But then last weekend I got a call from the curriculum committee asking if I'd be willing to start teaching some undergrad math courses for the fall just to get my feet wet here, and start teaching some basic music theory courses starting next semester so that if we get the major program up and running in time to offer it next year, students will be able to jump right in. So I packed up my things, rented a U-Haul, and got in about two hours ago. They showed me my office, gave me my ID and my parking pass, and now here I am."

Charlie looked at his sister incredulously. "Where were you this morning?" he asked.

"Southern Utah?" Caitlin had a feeling she was getting into some hot water with her brother.

Charlie looked at his watch. "Caitlin Rose," he scolded. "You should be at home, resting."

"It was only eight hours!" Caitlin protested. "That's less than I have been driving this whole week."

"Exactly!" Charlie argued. "Listen, I have to get this over to Don at the FBI so they can hopefully close this case tonight, and you're coming with me. Then I'm taking you home, no questions asked. I'll get Don or somebody to come drive your U-Haul home."

"You work for Don now?" Caitlin asked, eyeing her brother. "He must be rubbing off on you. You're never this assertive with me."

Charlie looked at his little sister. "Caity," he began, softer this time, "you've been driving all day and all the days before this. I know it's going to take physical restraint to get you to relax, and if I have to get Don to handcuff you to your bed, I'll do it." He cracked a wry grin. "Now, I really have to get this info to the FBI. Are you coming, or not?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes at her brother. "Yes, I'm coming."

Half an hour later, Charlie rushed into the FBI bullpen. Caitlin was trying to keep up with him, but the exhaustion was setting in and she soon fell behind.

She slowed, taking in the sight before her. She'd never been in the FBI office where her oldest brother worked, and she wanted to look around. She watched Charlie disappear into a room with Don and several other people whom she assumed he worked with, and headed in the same direction.

Caitlin got to the doorway just as two other men left the room. "Is it safe to come in?" she asked Charlie, who was gathering up his things while making small talk with Don.

Don looked up. "Caity?" he asked, unsure of whether his little sister really was standing there. "What are you doing here?"

"He made me come," Caitlin pointed to Charlie. At Don's raised eyebrow, she explicated, "I'm moving back to LA."

"That's awesome!" Don hugged his sister. "I'd love to catch up with you, sis, but I've got to go. David and Colby are getting the tactical teams and SWAT together and I'm supposed to meet them in the armory. But I'll see you at home later?"

"Did you all move in together with Dad or something while I was gone?" Caitlin asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No. Don just doesn't really spend time in the apartment he pays rent on."

Caitlin shrugged. "Works for me." Turning to Don, she answered his original question. "Yeah, I guess so. Charlie's orders."

Don looked at his brother, then shook his head. "I don't have time to sort this out now. I'll see you guys at home." He turned to leave.

"Don, wait!" Charlie hurried to follow him out the door. "Can you or David or Colby or someone go by CalSci and bring Caity's U-Haul home for her?"

"Sure," Don replied. "Leave the keys on my desk and let me know where she's parked and I'll get someone to help me."

"Thanks." Charlie slapped his brother on the shoulder as Don left for the armory. "C'mon, Caity, let's get you home."


	2. introduction

_introduction_

When Don arrived home about three hours later, he was somewhat surprised to hear music floating through the house. His father was sitting in his favorite chair in the living room, eyes closed, Charlie at the dining room table with his computer, and Caitlin was at the piano.

"Hey, Dad," Don greeted his father softly, thinking he was asleep. "I'm home."

Alan opened his eyes. "Nice to see you, Donnie," he greeted. "Now be quiet—I'm listening."

Don nodded. "Okay. I brought Colby with me—he brought my SUV home so I could get Cait's U-Haul from CalSci." He gestured for his friend to take a seat at the dining room table while he headed to the refrigerator.

"Hey, Don, Colby," Charlie looked up from the syllabi he was typing up on his computer.

"Thanks for bringing my U-Haul, bro," Caitlin said, turning around to try to find Don.

"No problem, sis," Don replied, returning from the kitchen with a couple of beers. "Hey by the way, this is Colby. He brought my SUV back so I could bring your U-Haul, and decided to hang out for a bit. Colby's one of my agents. Colby, this is my little sister Caitlin," he introduced.

"Hi, Caitlin," Colby raised a hand in greeting.

Caitlin twisted her head around and gave him a nod and a smile. "Nice to meet you, Colby."

"What are you playing?" Colby asked, settling back in his chair, beer in hand.

"Bach," Charlie answered absentmindedly from his syllabi. "I tried to get her to go to bed, but clearly I have no control over her."

Caitlin chuckled from the piano. "He's right, on both counts. It's Bach's Prelude and Fugue in F minor," she answered Colby's question. "And Charlie told me to relax. This is relaxing. I haven't played in a week because I was driving out here, so it was the perfect way to unwind."

"She's been playing for almost forty minutes now," Alan commented from the living room, eyes still closed. "And I am very much enjoying it."

"Hey, speaking of pianos, what did you do with yours?" Don asked. Turning to Colby, he explained, "My mom set aside money for a piano as a graduation gift for Caity when she graduated from NYU a couple of years ago. Caity didn't get a chance to finish her degree before my mom died, so Dad kept saving until she actually graduated last summer. Dad bought her a brand-new Steinway baby grand that she had to keep in a storage unit because it wouldn't fit in her apartment." He chuckled at the mental picture.

"CalSci paid for it to be transported out here, so I can have it in my office," Caitlin answered, finishing the fugue and turning around on the piano bench to face the rest of her family. "That way I don't have to worry about finding a place big enough for it."

"So where does the musical ability come from?" Colby asked. "I mean, no offense, but none of you three seem to be exceptionally gifted when it comes to music." He gestured vaguely to Alan, Don, and Charlie.

"Mom," Charlie answered. "Mom was the one who loved music. She made us all take piano lessons; Caitlin was the only one who stuck with it. Don and I whined and pleaded until she let us stop, but Caitlin kept going."

"And going, and going," Don added. "Some days, it felt like all Caitlin did was play the piano."

"Only when I wasn't dancing," Caitlin pointed out, not pausing in her playing. "If I wasn't doing homework, it was always either piano or dancing."

"Dancing?" Colby questioned. "What kind?"

"Classical ballet, mostly," Caitlin said. "I also really enjoy tap, and I did a couple of years of competitive dance. But my heart is in ballet, and I usually go back to that."

"Since Mom made us play the piano, Dad said he had the right to make us all play a sport. I played baseball, obviously, Charlie was exempt by Mom's rules, and so Caitlin tried a bunch of stuff—soccer, cheerleading, gymnastics—before finally sticking with dance."

"Wow," was all Colby could manage.

Caitlin turned around and began to play another piece—Colby realized he knew the song, Beethoven's Fur Elise. Don turned his attention to Charlie and struck up a conversation about the upcoming schoolyear, Charlie's classload, and the FBI, among other things. Alan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, content to listen to the music.

Colby, however, was enthralled. He couldn't divert his ears from the music any more than he could divert his eyes from the brown-haired beauty at the piano. He watched Caitlin's hands as they danced over the keys, her eyes as she concentrated on playing the pieces from memory, looking at where her hands were but also where they were going.

Caitlin played for another hour or so. After Fur Elise, she switched to Brahms – a Hungarian Dance that started out slow and made both Charlie and Don look up in surprise when it suddenly sped up. Afterwards, one of her favorite Chopin waltzes. Charlie was getting tired by then, and requested Bach's Air as a last piece before he went to bed.

She busied herself with a slightly more technical piece after Charlie went to bed, playing several more Bach fugues. They were her favorite as far as math went—Bach's compositions were logical and mathematical, and she liked playing them only after she'd broken all the bits of it apart, examined them, and put them back together. She'd seen Don in her peripheral vision making motions to get ready to leave, but he needed to take Colby back to the FBI to get his car, and Colby was thoroughly entranced in the music.

Halfway through Brahms Variation on an Original Theme in D, Caitlin started yawning. It wa a long piece, but she'd really needed to stretch her fingers. The call from CalSci had come just days before she'd began her cross-country journey, and it had been a long week without the piano. At a break in the music, Don stood, announcing softly that he probably needed to get going.

Caitlin was so tired, she didn't really remember her hands coming off the keys. She didn't remember saying goodbye to Colby and Don and heading upstairs to bed.

Colby remembered. All the way home, he remembered the sound of the music as it floated through the Eppes household, and although he was dead tired, he actually turned his clock radio to a classical music station as he readied for bed, and was asleep within minutes.


	3. exposition

_exposition_  
It was two weeks before Colby saw Caitlin again. They'd had a big case come up, and things had been busy around the office.

He had dropped some files off with Charlie regarding a current case, and since it was right before lunch, he'd taken a detour through campus. He passed by an open door and heard piano music floating softly through the hallways.

Colby knew Caitlin was the new head of math musicology at CalSci, and since CalSci was normally not a musical campus, it had to be her. So he followed the sound of the piano until he found the door that read _Professor Caitlin Eppes_.

When he gently pushed open the door, he saw Caitlin engrossed in the music. She didn't even look up when he walked in.

He noted that the baby grand she was playing must be the one Don had talked about, and leaned against her desk to listen.

Colby glanced around the room. It was a rather large room, with a chalkboard on one wall and a desk and chair at the front of the room. Caitlin's piano sat on one side, with more tables, rolling dry-erase boards, and several large cabinets that, as far as Colby could see, were filled with sheet music. At the back, Colby could see a sectioned off part of the room which looked to be sound-proof, with another baby grand piano inside.

Caitlin paused to scribble something on the sheet music in front of her. Without looking up or turning towards him, she said, "It's creepy when you stand out of my sight line like that."

"Sorry," Colby replied automatically. He moved towards her, seeing a set of chairs on one side. "What are you playing? I heard you from outside."

"It's that loud? I promised them it wouldn't be a distraction."

"I'm sure the other professors could tune you out if they wanted," Colby replied. "Besides, it's nice music."

"My office hasn't been totally sound-proofed yet," Caitlin gestured with her head towards the walls, where Colby could see some paneling put up. "But the piano just arrived from New York and it's been so long since I played her, I just couldn't help it."

"It's very beautiful," Colby complimented. "What are you playing?"

"It's a Brahms sonata," Caitlin replied. "I like the slow movements the best. They're great for stretching and thinking."

Caitlin finished the movement and sat back on the piano bench, looking at Colby. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "This isn't your place of work."

"Had to drop off some files to Charlie about a case we're working on," Colby said. "I was on my way back to my car when I heard the music and figured it must be you, so I followed it."

Caitlin narrowed her eyes a little. "This isn't exactly the way to the parking lot."

"It can be." A moment of silence passed between them and then Colby spoke again. "What does that mean?" he gestured to a formula and string of numbers written in large print across the main blackboard at the front of the room. There were other formulas and numbers scattered in smaller print all over the boards, but this one seemed most prominent.

"It's Bach," Caitlin explained. "I always like to christen a new space with Bach. His music tends to follow a sort of predictable pattern, and it makes me feel more settled." She examined the board. "This is the fugue I was playing the other night, when you came over," she said. "See, here's base, the melody. And then the chords build onto the melody, and the rhythm changes to give the piece movement." She went on to talk about the chord progressions, but Colby got lost somewhere around her description of diatonic triads, openers and closers, and something called half-cadence and full cadence.

Caitlin got halfway through the numbers on the board when she stopped suddenly and looked over at Colby, whose eyes had glazed over. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "You probably don't understand any of this. Sometimes I just get excited about Bach."

"No worries," Colby replied. Glancing at his watch, he said, "I have to get going so I can grab some lunch before I head back to the FBI, but this is interesting. Do you have office hours?" He grinned at her.

Caitlin let out a small giggle. "Sure. How about Saturday, at Charlie's?"

"If we don't have a major case, that sounds good," Colby replied. "What time?"

"After lunch sometime? Maybe 1 or 2ish?" Caitlin asked.

"Sounds perfect." Colby fished out a business card from his wallet. "Here, in case you need to get ahold of me. I know you can always get my number from Don but since I'm here, I'll give it to you."

Caitlin took the business card. "Thanks. I still have to get the phone in my apartment hooked up—I just moved in last week—but I'll call you if anything comes up."

"See you then." Colby waved as he left.

Four days later, Colby stood on the Eppes' doorstep and rang the bell at promptly one o'clock. "Hey, Colb, what are you doing here?" Don asked his agent, opening the door to let Colby in.

"I could ask the same of you," Colby replied, stepping inside the house. "You don't live here."

"Neither do you," Don countered. "So, you gonna tell me why you're here?"

"Caitlin told me she has 'office hours' right about now," Colby said. "She was explaining Bach to me the other day, and it honestly, it was kinda interesting."

"Well, don't get in too deep," Don warned. "You get Caitlin started on Bach and you may never see the light of day." He clapped Colby on the back and headed towards the dining room. "Caitlin's upstairs; her room's the second door on the left. You can't miss it. And if you get tired of talking music, you can join our game of pool in the garage."

Colby gave him a thumbs up and headed towards the stairs. Don was right about Caitlin's bedroom; unlike the other doors, which were blank, Caitlin's was adorned with signs that probably dated all the way back to elementary school. Colby chuckled when he noticed a piece of printer paper near the bottom of the door that read "Donnie and Charlie KEEP OUT!" scrawled on it in red crayon.

He knocked twice, then twisted the knob and opened the door slowly. "Professor?" he asked, poking his head inside.

Caitlin looked up from her computer. "Oh hi, Colby," she greeted him. "Here for some music theory?"

"I guess so."

"Well, let's go." Caitlin closed her laptop and got up, leading Colby back down the stairs to the upright piano in the dining room. "I'dve invited you to my place, but half my stuff is still in boxes and the rest is a total mess. Plus, I don't have a real piano there, and this old upright still beats my keyboard any day. Now come, sit." She slid over to one side of the bench and patted the space next to her.

Colby sat. The piano bench wasn't very big, so they were practically shoulder to shoulder on the bench. "Do you know anything about music?" Caitlin asked first.

"Only from elementary school, and that was a _long_ time ago," Colby replied. "We may as well just start at the beginning."

"All right. You're still interested in learning about the Bach analysis?" Colby nodded, and Caitlin went on. "Well, you probably know the basics. Musical notes make up a song, and the order that the notes occur dictates the melody."

"Yeah, I know that."

"Right. So you know the song 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat?'" Caitlin played the beginning of the song, and Colby nodded. "You can sing this song in a canon. So if you're with a group of people, one person starts the song, and another person comes in a little bit later, and then another person, and it has this cool effect, right? And it's also good for concentration because you can't let yourself get off track and sing someone else's part."

"Okay. So what's that got to do with Bach?"

"Well, not Bach necessarily but the fugue. A fugue is sort of like a canon. It starts with one voice, playing the melody. Then a second voice comes in, and then a third, and so on. They play the melody all together, sometimes in different keys, and starting at different times, like a canon. And then throughout the piece, we get parts or the whole theme inserted among other melodies. So the way we take apart a fugue is by first identifying its theme, which is generally not too difficult because the first voice has at least some of it alone, and then we look at all the places where we see the theme or parts of the theme repeated. It's kind of like that puzzle game where you try to find the hidden pictures."

"I was always bad at those," Colby said with a wry smile. "So, the theme is the different pictures hidden throughout the big picture, which is the entire piece."

"Yeah," Caitlin said. "You got that pretty quick. Sometimes I have to further explain that analogy."

"I may have only been working here a few months," Colby said, "But your brother uses so many analogies and examples that you start to get pretty good at figuring out what they mean."

Caitlin chuckled. "Yeah, analogies are super helpful when it comes to teaching and explaining things." She turned back to the piano. "Anyway, now that you sort of know what was going on with the fugue, maybe we can do some music theory?"

"That wasn't music theory?" Colby asked.

"I mean, it is, sort of," Caitlin said. "We analyze music using what we know about it, which is theory. But that's a general overview. If you want to be able to take apart a piece of music, you have to know how to recognize the theme in a different key, and transpose the chords so that they all line up in a neat little row."

"So where do we start?"

"Here." Caitlin pressed a key on the piano. "This is middle C. We call it this because the note is C, and it's in the middle of the keyboard."

"Sounds straightforward enough."

"The magic number in music is eight. We name the notes by letter, A through G, and when we get to the end, we start over. So if this is C, find A."

Colby studied the keyboard. He put his index finger on middle C, and then went two keys to the left – B, and then A. "This one?" he asked, pressing the key.

"Right. Where's another A?" Caitlin asked.

"Another one?" Colby asked.

"Yeah," Caitlin replied. "We go from A to G, and then start over. There are 88 keys on the keyboard, so there's at least a couple more As on the piano."

Colby played each key as he went up the scale. A-B-he made a mental note of middle C-D-E-F-G, oh, and then A was next. "Okay, so this one's A," he said, noting the pattern, "And this one, and this one." He pressed the keys.

"Right. Good job." Caitlin praised. Colby grinned like a first-grader. "Okay, I said there are eight notes in a scale, but only seven letters. Why?"

"The last and the first are the same," Colby replied. "An octave. I remember that much from elementary school. They're the same note, but one's an octave higher than the other."

"Right," Caitlin said. "And we can play the same melody an octave higher and it still sounds the same." She played a few notes up the scale on both octaves. "Okay, so now that we know about notes, and their names, and the octaves, we can start talking about keys."

"Aren't these keys?" Colby asked, pointing to the piano.

"Yes, that's the name for them. But I'm talking a little more generally, like a musical key. See, each piece of music is written in a key. This tells you if it's major," she demonstrated with a scale, "or minor." Another scale. "We call the distance between each white key a 'whole step'," Caitlin explained, "Because we're going from one letter to another—like from A to B. That's a whole step. If we want something closer together, we go a half step. This is where sharps and flats come in."

Caitlin pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil and set it on the music stand. "A sharp looks like this, like a pound sign." She drew the symbol. "And a flat looks like a sort of weird b shape, like this." She drew the flat. "Think of it like plusses and minuses. The sharp is the plus—it makes the note a half step _higher_ than the original. The flat is a minus—it makes the note a half step _lower_ than the original. The flats and the sharps are the black keys."

Colby and Caitlin talked about music (and other things) for four hours, sitting there on the piano bench. Caitlin showed him how the sharps and flats (or lack thereof) made up a key signature, and then he learned to play major, minor, and chromatic scales in C. Then she asked him about his role in the case Don and his team had just closed, and they ended up just talking for awhile.

Eventually, Charlie came back from spending the day at school doing research, and Don and Alan in from the garage. Alan invited Colby to stay for dinner, to which he agreed.

"Wait, so you were here all afternoon with Caity learning to play the piano, among other things?" Don asked over dinner, pointing his fork at Colby.

Colby nodded. "Well, the first part was music. Like maybe the first two, two and a half hours? And then she asked about the case, and we just ended up talking. And before we knew it, you guys were all here."

Don cast a glance at his younger sister, who shrugged and took a bite of her spaghetti in order to avoid questioning.

Colby joined in on a game of cards after dinner; by the time he finally left for home it was past nine o'clock. He hadn't meant to stay so late, but the hours on the piano bench with Caitlin had gone by quicker than he'd anticipated.

Over the next month, Colby met Caitlin nearly every week for music lessons and conversation. Most times it was at the Eppes' house, though once they'd met at CalSci. He found himself volunteering to go talk to Charlie just so he could swing by her office either before or after. One day, when the team had been backed up with paperwork, Colby had packed up his things and spent the afternoon in one of the armchairs in Caitlin's office, working on reports while she practiced and did her research.

By his third music lesson, Colby was ready to admit he was attracted to Caitlin Eppes. But he was still new to the team, and dating his team leader's little sister seemed like a bad idea. He knew that both Don and Charlie were fiercely protective of Caitlin, and he didn't exactly want to die. So he decided right then that he wasn't going to do anything about it.

About six weeks after that first lesson, Colby was at the Craftsman for yet another music lesson with Caitlin. It was a warm spring day, and Alan was outside gardening, Charlie and Don in the garage discussing who knows what. Caitlin and Colby, as usual, were seated hip to hip on the piano bench, and they were laughing at some joke Caitlin had made at Colby's expense.

"Hey, Colb, can I talk to you for a sec?" Don stuck his head into the dining room.

"Sure," Colby replied, sliding off the bench.

"Beer?" Don offered him a bottle.

It was only two in the afternoon, but Colby figured why not, and took the proffered bottle. He followed Don into the garage to where he and Charlie had been playing pool.

Don leaned against some cabinets and took a drink. Then he asked Colby, "So, when are you going to just ask her out already?"

"What?" Colby was genuinely confused.

"Caitlin," Don explicated. "C'mon, Colby. I know you well enough to know that you are interested in my little sister."

Colby sighed. It wasn't worth avoiding the truth. "Yeah, okay. You're right. I'm interested in her. But I'm not going to do anything about it."

"Why not?" Charlie asked. "We happen to know that she likes you too."

"She does?" Colby's eyes shot up. He'd been staring at the ground in an attempt to make this encounter less awkward, but now he made eye contact with the brothers.

Don nodded. "Why do you think she lets you come around all the time? Why do you think she's giving you music lessons? She doesn't offer those things to just anybody, you know."

"I thought she was just being nice," Colby said. "I was the one who asked about the fugue in the first place."

Don gave him a pointed look. "One thing you may or may not have already learned about my sister is that she's not afraid to tell you what she thinks."

Colby nodded his agreement; he did know. Last week he'd been put on restricted duty when ballistics came back positive for bullets from his gun, and had gone to Caitlin in hopes of some sympathy. She was quick to let him know that while she was sorry he was on desk duty, she was not going to pity him. He'd spent the afternoon doing work in her office, and she'd put him in his place every time he even thought about feeling sorry for himself.

"If she didn't want you hanging around, she wouldn't have invited you over in the first place," Charlie said, crossing his arms. "Just ask her out already."

"You two are okay with this?" Colby asked, looking from Don to Charlie and then back again. "I mean, she's your little sister. I don't want you guys to kill me."

"Then don't make us have to," Don stated simply.

The three stood around in silence. Colby took another swig of his beer.

"Well?" Don gave him a pointed look. "Are you going to ask her out?"

Colby sighed. There was no denying it, and if Don and Charlie were in favor of it, then what did he have to lose? "Fine, yes. I'll ask her out."


End file.
